


Hold My Hand

by therealraewest



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Drabble, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Secret Relationship, and some headcanons with Slip aka that dude who died in the beginning, hand holding, there's no plot it's just finn being a clueless cinnamon roll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 14:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5543528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealraewest/pseuds/therealraewest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holding hands is the most skin-to-skin physical affection two Stormtroopers could ever hope to achieve, and only when it can be justified. Finn and Slip make do in training, but when Finn leaves the First Order he finds that he no longer needs to be furtive about his hand holding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold My Hand

**Author's Note:**

> So this started with a headcanon that the trooper that died in the beginning was Finn's cute boyfriend and some help from friends who've read the novels and figured out that FN-2003 aka Slip was actually close to Finn so have my drabble about a touch starved cinnamon roll with a secret stormtrooper boyfriend

            Their hands were the only parts of them that remained uncovered, and only half of them at that. The backs of their hands were protected by the same white shell as the rest of their body, but their palms and fingertips were free. It helped them to hold and handle their weapons, to feel the pressure of the trigger and to avoid their guns slipping from their grip.

            This meant that holding hands was the only skin-to-skin contact a Stormtrooper could ever achieve with another Stormtrooper. It was Slip who had taught this to FN-2187 during a training exercise. Sliding his hand into 2187's was considered an acceptable way to keep footing and not lose the rest of the squad when running, and FN-2187 justified the rush of adrenaline at the contact as a boost to productivity.

            Holding hands became their go-to during training simulations. Navigating a smoke-filled room? Physical contact kept them from losing one another with no unneeded noise giving their positions away. Simulated fire-fight? Holding hands would alert either one if the other was hit instantly, allowing for immediate medical assessment. FN-2003 was living up to his nickname and slipping behind the rest of the squad? What better way than holding hands to keep Slip next to and on-pace with their team leader?

            Captain Phasma had told FN-2187 not to lower himself to help FN-2003. It was her advice that he should let the weak link of his team break under the pressure while they were still in a controlled environment, instead of forcing him through to more high-stakes missions. 2187 had nodded to her face and held 2003's hand tighter in the next mission, as if trying to warn Slip that if he didn't stay close he would lose him forever.

            They only slipped up once. It was Slip who took 2187's hand unconsciously upon news of their deployment, and in front of Captain Phasma no less. FN-2003 was able to plead for FN-2187's innocence in the incident, but FN-2003 was taken in for reconditioning. 2187 paced in his quarters during his allotted free time, thinking of his Slip undergoing the reconditioning process so close to his first real mission.

            When they released 2003 for bed rest, it intersected perfectly with FN-2187's last personal time before their team's official deployment. He got another teammate to stand outside the door to FN-2003's quarters and keep watch. He trusted her not to tell Phasma, since he'd seen her imitating his and 2003's hand holding technique once or twice with FN-2045 when she thought nobody could see them.

            FN-2003 had his helmet off, his hair falling across his pale, tired face as he sat slumped forward on his bunk. When he looked up, his hazel eyes, so startling to see for the first time not impeded by a helmet visor, seemed to look right through FN-2187. The team leader realized that he wasn't seeing him as 2187, but was staring instead at his helmet, impersonal and blank. 2187 took his off and looked at his comrade with his own dark eyes. It was the first time FN-2187 had ever removed his helm without direct orders to do so.

            They sat together, hand in hand and heads inclined to touch at the temples, for as long as 2187 could afford to stay away. At one point, his voice shaking and worn, Slip began to tell 2187 about the small things he knew about the world outside training and missions. He told him of birthdays and celebrations and vacations, of love and friendship and the ability to choose one's profession instead of being assigned according to convenience. Some of the things sounded outlandish and absurd to FN-2187, but he still listened, hanging on every word.

            "They can hold hands whenever they want out there," Slip whispered. "When they find someone special they hold on so that anyone can see them together."

            2187 didn't know what exactly would make someone 'special'. Every person he knew had the same story- plucked from birth, trained and sorted and tested and assigned roles based on aptitude and scores. He did know, however, that this feeling of affection and closeness and protectiveness he felt for Slip was special. It was special and secret and forbidden, and it made his heart ache in his chest when he thought about it too much.

            "What do people call their special someone?" asked 2187 in a hushed tone, as if whispering war secrets across a quiet room.

            Slip looked up at him, his eyes still vague but trying to focus now. It was difficult for the boy in his haze but he persisted, a squeeze of 2187's hand giving him a boost of willpower. "I'd call you my boyfriend. My cute boyfriend."

            "Boyfriend," FN-2187 rolled the world around his mouth, feeling it for all its unfamiliarity. "Cute boyfriend."

            A knock on the door indicated that their time was up. FN-2187 replaced his helmet and left with his squadmate who had completed her vigil well, walking as though they were completing a patrol. He considered confiding in her his secret of boyfriends so she could use the term with her special someone, but he wasn't sure if the term would still apply of both members were girls. He'd have to ask FN-2003 the next time they had time alone.

           Unfortunately, the next time they were together was when Slip was smearing the last of his lifeblood across FN-2187's helmet, as if trying to reach the face beneath it to see his eyes one last time.

            From the back of a tie-fighter, running from everything he'd ever known, Finn wondered if Poe had a boyfriend, or if, when they were out of range of any missiles Finn'd have to shoot down, Poe would consider holding hands around their back-to-back seats.

            Unfortunately, the chance was ripped from him with a missile and a crash and the wreckage of the tie-fighter sinking into the sand out of his reach.

            He'd gotten to hold Rey's hand. With the sight of Stormtroopers and the sound of blasters and bombers all around, he'd slipped into an old habit and grabbed her hand like he'd used to grab Slip's, though she responded to the motion in a much more vocal and displeased manner than he was used to. He wondered if she'd never heard of cute boyfriends on her planet, and when she expressed the need to get back to Jakku he went ahead and checked, asking "you have a boyfriend? A cute boyfriend?" He saw no other reason why someone would want to return to the junkyard of a desert planet unless they had someone they cared for there waiting for them.

            At the rebel base he'd heard a rebel say something about Poe's jacket being a 'boyfriend jacket' and Finn was immediately interested. A talk with a very understanding young rebel pilot revealed that significant others would often trade a key piece of clothing to keep the other close during missions when often they'd be in different planes or even different planets. Finn asked if this was similar to holding hands and she laughed brightly and said yes, in a way. Heat rushed Finn's face as he realized just how proudly he'd been wearing this sign of Poe's affection, with himself having nothing to give Poe in return.

            It took several days of building up enough confidence, but Finn eventually sidled up beside Poe Dameron and tried, as casually as he could, to slip his hand into Poe's. It took a moment and a small amount of confusion on Poe's part but as soon as Poe realized what was happening he easily took Finn's hand, a smile bright on his face. Finn couldn't smile, he was too busy telling himself that this was no longer a capital offense and feeling outright scandalous that their _whole hands_ were touching in front of _everyone_ oh my _God_. They passed by other pilots and rebels and commanding officers and yet Poe never even considered letting go of Finn's hand, even when General Organa approached them to ask if Poe would be willing to fly surveillance on an upcoming mission to make up for another pilot who had been injured.

            It was hard to describe his rush of emotions when, still on the buzzing high of holding hands with the best pilot in the rebellion, the best pilot in the rebellion leaned over and gave him a kiss directly on the lips before telling he'd be back soon and to wait up for him.


End file.
